


A Night to Remember, Hopefully

by KaidaShade



Series: Setting Sights [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Banshee's memory issues, Drunk Sex, Friends to Lovers, Inappropriate Use of Light (Destiny), Light feels really good if you're not a guardian, M/M, Mutual Pining, Robot Sex, Weird Exo Anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23154136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaidaShade/pseuds/KaidaShade
Summary: Banshee works too much, at least as far as Cayde is concerned.  A night out turns into something more when alcohol loosens tongues and inhibitions.
Relationships: Banshee-44/Cayde-6 (Destiny)
Series: Setting Sights [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637296
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	A Night to Remember, Hopefully

**Author's Note:**

> Events referenced in Secluded Encounters, wouldn't leave me alone after I wrote that. The Cayde/Banshee train just keeps on chugging baby, someone please stop these sinful hands I have monstrously huge long-term projects to finish.

“There you are!”   
“ _ Fuck-  _ Damnit Cayde!” Banshee lowered the rifle in his hands and sagged a little once he recognised the face poking in through his little workshop window. Cayde’s eyes had gone very wide to be caught in his crosshairs, and they were startlingly blue against his silhouette. “Scared the crap outta me.”    
“Scared  _ you?  _ You’re the one with the gun.”   
“Don’t get smart with me or I  _ will  _ shoot you.” Banshee sighed and shook his head as Cayde clambered in through the window in an improbable display of agility and swung himself onto the couch, one leg propped lazily over the arm. He turned and set the gun down- not even loaded, of course it wasn’t, he wasn’t stupid enough to be working on a loaded gun- and turned to face him with a hand on his hip. “What’re you doing here?”

“Ah, you love it.” Cayde grinned, gesturing casually with one hand. “You’ve been in here for hours, man, what’re you even  _ doing _ ?”

It was a dumb question, but Banshee knew the ritual by now. He would say ‘working’ and gesture to the mess of parts and half-finished weapons on his workbench, and Cayde would snort and accuse him of working too much, and then he would roll his eyes and say something like ‘well that makes one of us’ and the casual banter would devolve into an actual conversation at some point. Admittedly, Cayde didn’t usually invite himself into the workshop quite so dramatically, but Hunters were unpredictable at the best of times and Cayde was nothing if not a Hunter.

“I’m working.” he said, sticking to the usual script for now. Sure enough, Cayde snorted and sprawled in that dramatic, unfairly gorgeous way of his across the couch, legs splayed wide and his arms behind his head. Banshee couldn’t look at him, because if he looked then he’d start staring and that would be far too obvious.   
“I knew it!” He declared. “Well fear not, my friend. I, Cayde-6, Hunter Vanguard and most desirable Exo in the Tower, am here to relieve you from your duties!”   
“Oh yeah?”   
“Yeah. You work too much. We’re going out!”   
“Out?” 

“Yep. Do you hear it?”   
“Hear what?”   
“The ramen! The beer! It calls to us, Banshee, will you ignore such a beautiful song?"

He turned to look, found Cayde had rolled onto his front and was gazing up at him hopefully. How the hell he managed puppy dog eyes, Banshee would never understand.

"You been drinking already?" He asked, like this wasn't standard Cayde behaviour.

"Only a little. I'm an Exo  _ and  _ a Guardian, getting drunk takes prior notification and a bit of a run up."

He was still making that face, and Banshee let out a long-suffering sigh as he started making a vague attempt at tidying away his work. Not that the entire place didn't look like a bomb had hit it, but he definitely had a system. Things he needed went in his direct line of sight, where he wouldn’t forget where they were. Except he needed all of the things at some point. Not that he had to justify himself to many people; Cayde was the only one who knew where his workshop was, though he occasionally heard rumours floating around about it and the wonders within. He was pretty sure he'd started some of them himself. 

"Why tonight?" 

"Why any night? Because the world isn't ending for once, I'm free, you're free, and we almost never do this anymore since I became Vanguard. I know I see you like, nearly every day but I miss you man."

The sincerity of that caught Banshee off guard and he softened a little. He was probably always going to have said yes; hanging out with his best friend- secret, embarrassing feelings notwithstanding- was always a riot and he was right, it  _ had  _ been a while. He dusted a few metal shavings off his shirt, then shrugged.

"Okay. The usual?"   
“Blue Dragon then World’s End for drinks? Maybe the Overlook if we get bored?”   
“Nah, Overlook‘s fulla Dead Orbit guys these days. Hear the Hole in the Wall is good though.”

Cayde rolled off the couch into a graceful crouch and hopped up, his cape swishing as he swung an arm around Banshee’s shoulders and started trying to herd him down out of the workshop. “Then we’ll go there. But food first. Definitely food first.”   
  
The way out of the workshop was a blur, Banshee too distracted by Cayde’s warm body against his even through cloak and leather armour, but he found himself in their favourite ramen bar soon enough. They talked about nothing and ate, savouring the extra spice the owner knew to give them and getting through a few drinks at the same time. Just regular alcohol for now, but it was enough to get a bit of a buzz going, enough for him to lean in a little as Cayde told some ridiculous story that he’d almost definitely made up about Zavala. He radiated warmth and it was so easy to get drawn in even when you knew he was spouting bullshit, and he found himself laughing along anyway as they paid up and headed out.

Their well-trodden path led them to the World’s End. Some said the bar had been there since before Six Fronts, but Banshee wasn’t sure he believed that. He didn’t remember, only knew that it had been there longer than he  _ could  _ remember and that it was the best place in the City to get trashed if you were an Exo. The interior was lit mostly by candles on the tables and stained glass lamps dangling from the ceiling and at least four pairs of glowing eyes that glanced up as they slipped inside, reflecting off their owners’ faces in a myriad of colours. Some of the drinks glowed too, and that was what they went for. Almost pure ethanol with just a smattering of other fun chemistry and absolutely lethal to humans, but for them it was perfect.   
  
They found themselves in a quiet corner, a softly glowing pitcher half empty on the table and Cayde sprawled with a drink in one hand and his other arm over the back of the low couch they’d claimed, while Banshee slid down with both hands clasped around his glass over his abdomen.    
“So this human guy was kissing me, right,” Cayde was saying between sips of his drink, “And he just… just gets  _ riiight  _ between two of the plates on my back and I move the wrong way and next thing I know there’s blood  _ everywhere _ and his Ghost is cussing me out like it’s  _ my _ fault while she puts his fingertips back on. I warned him.”   
“I’m sure you did.” Banshee nodded, only half paying attention through the buzz of alcohol. Then, in a fit of bravery, he added, “Humans don’t get it. You gotta… gotta teach ‘em. Better off sticking with Exos.”   
Cayde snorted. “Yeah. Harder to break, too.” He tipped his head back and poured the last of his drink down his throat, a tiny bit of orange glow visible in the joints of his plating where his cloak didn’t quite cover his neck. Sometimes, Banshee thought in the strange poetic way of the drunkard, it seemed like he could barely contain his Light, and he felt his fans catch when Cayde looked over at him, his eyes bright in the dark. “You uh… get up to that, much? You don’t tend to talk about it.”   
“I… have my moments. Remember some of ‘em, pretty sure there’s more I don’t.”   
“Yeah?” Cayde waggled his brow plates at him and Banshee snorted, refilled their drinks to cover the embarrassed flicker of his mouth light, “What’s your type? You always seemed like a boob guy to me.”

It took everything he had not to just say ‘you’. “Your gaydar is fucking awful, Cayde.”   
“Wait, seriously? Just guys?”   
“Just guys. Don’t think the ladies ever really did it for me, reckon they know it too. Get some trying it but I reckon they’re more interested in getting their hands on my wares than me.”   
  
“Hey, that’s not true!” Cayde sat up so fast he made Banshee jump, and he ended up spilling a few glowing splatters of his drink on his shirt, “Look, look, you’re gorgeous. And you’re so… steady. You’re so good with your hands. It’s kinda hot watching you handle a gun actually, it’s really distracting, I should stop talking, I’ve had way too much to drink so you know I’m not gonna … you’re really hot. Okay?”   
  
Cayde was fucking with him. Cayde had to be fucking with him. This didn't happen outside of tacky romance novels, but Banshee was just drunk enough to stare up at him, captivated by the flicker of his mouth light as he tried to stop himself from saying anything else. 

Cayde was a heartbreaker. Cayde was careless and he was a liar and a teller of tall tales. But he wasn't cruel. He knew that. Banshee wouldn't be friends with him if that wasn't true. And that, coupled with the alcohol, was what emboldened him.

"Do you know," he asked, sitting up and slowly and deliberately setting his drink aside, "How long I've fantasized about hearing you say that?" 

He didn't really think about what happened next. Reaching up and dragging Cayde down into a rough, hard kiss just seemed right, and he was rewarded with a staticky 'oh' before Cayde's mouth moved against his in a clumsy scrape of metal that shouldn't have felt as incredible as it did. 

It only lasted a couple of moments before they parted, Cayde staring at him stunned like he'd been hit in the head with his eyes very wide and very bright. "You… that was… huh. I didn't know. How did I miss that? Even that time on the Mesa, I just thought it was… I dunno, adrenaline..."

"I never told you." Banshee wanted to skip the awkward part and go back to kissing, that was so much better than talking about feelings. "I've always thought you were gorgeous. Way outta my league though, so I didn't say."

"You should have said." Cayde kissed him again, sinking back against the cushions and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I've wanted more since that day."

Maybe it was the booze, but shifting into that embrace felt so damn right, and Banshee caught him by the face and pulled him in. He didn’t remember when, but one of Cayde’s legs ended up thrown over his lap and he caught himself with his hand sliding over the smooth leather of his pants, fingers lingering at the joint between thigh and ass. He was lucky enough to just have this, he shouldn’t push for more that Cayde might not want to give him. He hesitated, but before he could draw his hand away Cayde caught him by the wrist and held it there. He didn’t even have to stop kissing him to whisper, “you can. I want it,” right up against his mouth like a treasured secret, just between them. 

He took the plunge. There wasn’t much to grab, Cayde’s body being as hard and unyielding as his own, but Banshee let his fingers map the planes of his ass as he pulled him closer. Cayde slid a hand under his jaw in return, let it carry on over his neck and down his back, setting sensors in delicate plates alight with the heat of his touch. Banshee wanted more but they couldn’t, not here, and he didn’t dare suggest it until…   
“Wanna get out of here?” Cayde drew back, eyes half-lidded but bright as ever. 

He swallowed a burst of static, managed to nod, and Cayde grinned and slid off his lap and onto his feet to pull him upright. "Hey, you got nothing to be nervous about, 'kay? Let's go." 

He nodded again, a hand going to Cayde's waist for balance until he could gather himself. This had to be a dream, it couldn’t really be happening, right? Cayde didn't seem to mind the touch at least. "You're not too drunk for this?" He asked, and Banshee was surprised by the care in his voice.

"By the time we get where we're going I'll've half sobered up. I know what I want though, don't worry about that. You?"

"Guardian, remember? I burn it off pretty fast." Cayde's arm went around his shoulders and he couldn't resist leaning into the touch, "Your place or mine?"

"Mine's closer, probably."

They had to support each other a little to make it there, and Banshee barely remembered anything of the elevator ride to his apartment. He was too wrapped up in Cayde, who had started kissing him again the moment the doors closed and pulled him into a tight embrace that made it all but inevitable that his thigh would end up pressed between the Hunter’s legs, especially when Cayde’s hands found their way to his ass to hold him there. He vaguely thought he heard the door open at some point, a startled laugh coming from the other side, and then rapidly close again, but the next thing he was properly aware of was stumbling out on his floor and dragging Cayde to his door. Fumbling his keys while his best friend was nipping his neck insistently was difficult but somehow he got them inside and immediately turned the tables, flipping them round to pin Cayde to the door the moment it was shut.    
  
“Holy shit.” Cayde breathed, staticky and disbelieving, as he pressed his weight up against him. Cayde had height on him, the Light, but he let himself be held there while Banshee crashed their mouths back together, his clever hands suddenly clumsy as he tried to figure out the clasps and buckles on Cayde’s breastplate. Why had he worn armour, did he forget normal clothes existed? He made a frustrated noise and Cayde chuckled quietly, moved to help him with one hand while the other snaked around the back of his skull to pull him into another kiss. 

Somehow he got Cayde out of the armour and it ended up somewhere in his kitchen, flung to the side out of the way and forgotten in favour of running his hands over Cayde’s chest, fingers splayed over the plates rather than trying to dip between the joints. Humans always tried to get under the plating, like they thought an Exo wouldn’t feel a gentler touch, but Banshee knew better and he was rewarded with a static gasp and a rush of warmth around Cayde’s fingertips as they snuck under his shirt. He pressed in close and Cayde needed no further encouragement to pull the offending clothing over his head. He tried to get the kiss back as quickly as possible, but Cayde tipped his head down so his mouth bumped him on the horn instead. “Lemme see you?”

Banshee hesitated, averting his eyes. “Not much to look at.”   
“I know that’s bullshit. Don’t be modest.” Cayde caught his jaw and gently tilted it so he had to look at him, his eyes warm. It was odd for Cayde to look so soft, and maybe he could put it down to the booze but it did make it easier to relax, let Cayde take him in. 

He really didn’t think there was much to see, battered as he was by years- centuries- of fighting and mishaps he didn’t remember. Painted over welds and patches dotted a frame built for function over form, some better integrated than others. He lacked some of the artistry that had been put into Cayde, who was all sleek lines and as fresh as the day he’d been built, barely a scratch or chip in his paint. It didn’t seem to matter to Cayde though; he rested his hands on Banshee’s hips and stroked upwards, tracing the spots of damage with something like wonder in his eyes and leaving Banshee shivering from the heat of his hands. He supposed, vaguely, that Cayde didn’t see a lot of old wounds among Guardians he spent most of his time with.

“See? Traveller, I could look at you forever.” Cayde whispered, drawing him into another kiss. He followed easily, pressing close and sliding his arms around Cayde’s waist. He was hard against him, tented pants pressing against Banshee’s hip, and he gave in easily to the temptation to bring one hand around to brush Cayde’s belt. “Fuck, please, yes”

Who was he to say no? He fumbled a bit, not helped by some impatient squirming on Cayde’s part, but getting his hand on Cayde’s cock seemed like the most important thing in the world right then and he persevered. The way Cayde’s knees buckled slightly and he gasped static when he wrapped his hand around him sent a rush of heat between his own thighs and he squeezed on impulse, felt Cayde’s Light pulse through him in a wave of warmth as he moaned. 

Banshee’s fingers danced over the smooth plating of his cock, admiring the faint texture that adorned the hard metal and tracing the tight seams of interlocking plates. He’d expected silicone, something a bit more forgiving to human anatomy, but he could certainly appreciate this. Especially with Cayde all but clinging to him, leaning back against the door to keep himself upright. “You wanna… fuck, Banshee, you wanna move this horizontal?”

“If I get to take these off you.” He let go for just long enough to tug Cayde forward by his belt, and the Hunter’s mouth flickered several times before he gave up trying to speak and just nodded desperately.

It wasn’t a big apartment, and they barely got four steps before Banshee’s thighs hit the arm of the couch and they fell onto it together in a tangle of limbs, Cayde furiously trying to kick his boots off without stopping his spirited attempt to touch every inch of Banshee’s torso. It didn’t work, and things weren’t improved by Banshee’s attempts to get his own pants off without moving more than two inches away from Cayde. One boot went flying across the room into a pile of spare parts with a horrific crash and clatter and Cayde winced, but Banshee just grabbed him by the face and kissed him to distract him. If anything was broken he’d fix it when he was sober. All he cared about right now was the heat between them, Cayde dragging his pants down and grinding against him hard and hungry. 

Somehow the rest of the clothes made it to the floor and Banshee found himself sprawled on his back on his couch, the ceiling light gleaming off Cayde’s sleek blue plating as he straddled him, vents wide and fans roaring. He couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering downwards as they parted from a heated kiss, a flash of something catching his gaze as the light reflected off of it.

He couldn’t help it. He stifled a startled laugh by shutting off his vocaliser, and Cayde squinted at him perplexed. “What?”

“I shouldn’t be surprised…” He rested a hand on Cayde’s hip, letting his thumb brush along the underside of his gold-plated cock. “Suits you.”   
“I dunno whether that’s a compliment or not…” Cayde huffed at him, and Banshee leaned up to try and draw him into another kiss. “Look, look. I don’t remember getting that. Either I was super drunk or it was before I died. Past me, clearly terrible taste. Present me just happens to like it too. Present me definitely likes you touching it, shit, don’t stop doing that or I’ll laugh at your dick too...”   
  
Cayde melted against him as he did his level best to shut him up, wrapping his hand around his cock and stroking him more firmly until his rambling dissolved into static and little pleas for more, his kisses into heated nips that sent little sparks of fire down Banshee’s back. His own cock ached, Cayde’s weight in his lap maddening, and he couldn’t stop himself rocking up against him with a soft hiss of need. He half expected Cayde to stop him, to be put off or push him away, but he only drew back for a brief moment. “You wanna fuck me?”   
“Please?” Banshee was surprised by the need in his own voice, the hunger with which he squeezed Cayde’s thigh. In that moment he didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything more, and Cayde’s breathless chuckle sent a surge of arousal through him that he barely had time to process before he shifted back and Banshee found himself enveloped in tight heat, felt Cayde’s plating shudder against him and the glow of his Light escaping from his control and bathing him in warmth. 

There was a moment where it felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t even need to breathe, but Cayde’s Light overwhelmed him nonetheless, seemed to fill him up with blinding, searing ecstasy even as he filled Cayde. He wasn’t sure what noise he made but it wasn’t coherent words, wasn’t even a human sound. He didn’t care. He clung to Cayde and buried his face in his neck, giving him just enough room to move above him. Cayde obliged, inner walls squeezing around him. They had more of the give he had expected but there was expert control behind that, the perfect amount of heat and friction.

It would be his undoing, moving together in wondrous synchrony for moments and eternities, bathed in the radiant fire of Cayde’s Light and the more physical heat rolling from his vents, his staticky cries and the glitching sounds of an Exo coming undone right up against his ear as Cayde rocked down on him, shaking in his arms from overstimulation, and dragged him over the edge in a rush that shorted out his vocaliser on Cayde’s name and left him trying to reboot his optical systems in its wake.

He came to with Cayde still on top of him, his fans running at full and his horn pressed up against his face. No, into his face, in the hole in his cheek, to the point where when he tried to speak his jaw clacked against it. “Hey,” he rasped, stroking his hand clumsily down Cayde’s back.    
“Mm?” Cayde mumbled, carefully extricating himself and pushing himself up on one elbow to peer down at Banshee, his eyes still flickering a bit as his systems reset themselves. “You okay? Good?”   
“Yeah.”   
“Didn’t hurt you? I uh… think I lost control a bit.” He was still glowing slightly between the plates on his neck and chest, so that was perhaps an understatement. Banshee pulled him back down with an arm around his shoulders, his brain still half-offline from alcohol and mindblowing sex.    
“No. It was incredible. You wanna stay?” 

The question slipped out before he could stop himself, and he didn’t know how to read the odd softness in Cayde’s expression as he hesitated before answering. “If you don’t mind? I wasn’t gonna ask but… yeah. Please.” 

Banshee tilted his head to kiss him on the horn and hummed approvingly, then after a moment to work up to it loosened his grip on him and prodded him off the couch so that they could stumble together into his bed, clothes forgotten in favour of a tangle of blankets and limbs that just seemed so right, so comfortable. He didn’t think he’d ever fallen asleep more easily.   
  
He woke up alone, curled around a bundled up duvet in an empty bedroom. It gave him pause and he even patted the mattress next to him just to check that he was seeing it right. Aside from a faint warmth, there was no sign anyone had ever been there. Whatever he had instead of a heart sank a little, and he dragged himself out of bed to go and search his apartment. No sign of Cayde. The scattered armour was gone, no sign even of any disturbance to his things. Had he dreamed it? It had seemed so real, though the memories were already fading around the edges.

He ran a hand over his face and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. Of course it had to be a dream, he decided. The world didn’t work like that, things never aligned so easily and so beautifully even when he made them himself. Even so, he couldn’t shift the ache of loss and disappointment. Nothing had changed, surely, and yet it still felt like his world had shifted. Maybe he should just… ask Cayde. He could tell him for sure whether it had happened or not.

No. How would you even ask someone that without telling them you dreamed about fucking them, and he’d rather not know that his best friend didn’t feel the same way about him than risk their friendship that way. He shook his head and turned to go back into his room.

Maybe he should ask him out for a drink or two, though. If he remembered.


End file.
